NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:
Not STRICT IC only, you can ask questions directly related to the RP, but keep it to a minimum.
Signup/OOC thread here:
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=387820

IC:
It was easy to keep time in the trenches.
For instance, it was now six o'clock. Time for the second airstrike of the day.
Right on time, six Avenger fighterbombers streaked overhead, releasing mini-shrapnel bombs, designed to launch thosands of flechettes into the concrete-lined trenches, creating massive kill zones.
Most of the bombs hit the specialy laid ramps on the front and back of the trench, and went hurtling off into space, bursting over the few hundred meters of space between the frontline and barrack trenches. Every now and then there would be a lucky strike and a few men would die horrible deaths, but so far the strikes had been mostly innefective.
"Right lads! Load the guns! Lets give them what-for!" A major, escorted by a sergeant, strode into the artillary trench, where he
"Whats the order of the day, major?" Mortar crews rushed about, prepping the large 10inch guns.
"Soman, red dye. Weather reports are clear for the day, so HC wants to try a few chemicals on them."
"Yessir." The Captain turned, whispered to a sergeant, who picked up a microphone.
"LISTEN UP! Five volleys, Soman, red dye. Give 'em hell!"
A number of acknowledgements were yelled, mostly obscene, while a few unfourtunates manhandled large shells marked with "WARNING! NERVE AGENT! DO NOT PLACE IN MOUTH!" emblazoned in large, unfriendly letters.
Two minutes later the first barrage was launched, shortly after that another was in the air.
Between loading the third barrage and the impact of the second, the first barrage struck, sending up plumes of red-dyed nerve gas several hundred feet, where it slowly sank back to earth.
(Soman basicaly causes random nerve firings, you end up twitching to death, or your heart fails due to exhaustion. The red dye is basicaly to show where the hits were.)

In the Frontline Trench:
"LOCK AND LOAD! Ready to go! Give 'em Hell regardless of your religious beleifes!"
The typical cry of sergeants through the ages, even if the words change, no doubt the phrase was coined in ancient Rome, where some angry fellow shouted to his archers, "Knock and draw, give 'em Hades!"
Dun-coloured powersuites lined the walls of the front trench, only ten feet deep, half that of the rear trenches, checking their weapons and in various postures of prayer. Assorted monks, priests and rabbis walked through offering prayers, blessings and encouragement.
Just behind the front trench a large tunnel lead to the main armoured divisions staging areas. The hum of high-speed antimatter reaction engines could be felt, as well as heard.
Even in the calm before the charge, occasional cracks could be heard, snipers going about their work. Oftentimes you had to wonder how the snipers avoided getting machineguned, gassed, and snipered themselves.
Whistle...time to go.
Some few thosand men haul themselves out of the trench, bringing the new No-Mans-Land into view.
The natives found it hard to imagine that the desert could be made into a No-Mans-Land. It already was. Of course, the ones here now knew that their desert had been nothing.
Large, glass-lined craters marked where antimatter shells had gone off, carving perfect semicircles into the desert floor. More ragged craters showed convetional plasma or high-explosive rounds. Most of the holes had pools of terrible gas in them, oftentimes various poisons would mix and set off mini-explosions, or float around above the field, invisible deathtraps.
At least there werent many bodies.
The biggest obstacle was the thin layer of glassed sand that covered most of the area, the result of large-scale sustained bombardments of various types of high-heat munitions. Oftentimes it was JUSt strong enough to support a fully equiped soldier, then break and trap his foot in the loose sand below.
Then the other side was quite happy to end his problem by cutting him to bits with large-calibur machinegun fire.
The tanks didnt have this problem, but there were naturaly large amounts of antitank weapons over there that could deal with them.
The attack ended about half an hour later, the last survivors dragged wounded back, oftentimes they were shot in the back during the retreat. This was not World War One. There was no decency or honour. Kill the other guy, your fighting for the Empire/Republic, its your DUTY.
Behind the lines, through miles of concrete, barbed wire, mines, and other wartime neccesities, the artillary captain gave the order to load another volley.

Republican Command Headquarters
City of Al Khali

The group of Generals sat around the central table like a group of conspirators.

In a way, Hardy thought bitterly, that’s exactly what they were…what we were: a group of self-important string-pullers, conspiring against life to render as many of the enemy dead as possible.

Field Marshal Jonathon Peter Hardy II sat in the largest chair at the head of the table, dumbly listening to the voices around him. In the centre of the table, a three dimensional holographic map of the battle lines was drawn out across the province. Red lines showed the location of enemy trenches relative to their own green lines. Occasionally, the map was updated for troop movements as seen and relayed back by robotic spotters out near the front lines.

Al Khali was firmly under Republican control. It was, indeed Hardy realised, the only one of two Republican stronghold truly left. The city had been modified into a hurriedly built fortress with two hundred thousand Republican loyalists scattered in defensive positions through the urban dwellings. The lines were no more than a few miles south of them.

“We need to hit them, and hit them hard!” General Donald Sanders slammed his fist down onto the table. The map display fuzzed momentarily before clearing. Sanders glared around the table. “We have a rapidly closing time scale here before we’re totally hemmed in. We need to stage a break-out now!”

General Elizabeth Farrow looked back at Sanders with a cool stare of her own. “We’re rapidly running out of supplies and troops, General,” she said icily. “Is a brutal assault really what we need right now?”

“Of course it is!” Sanders retorted. He sighed, like a teacher tired of a stupid child. “If we let them grind us down, they will win for sure. If we use the majority of our weapons in a staged breakout at…” he consulted the map. “…Kish,” he finally concluded. “If we do this, then we can divide their forces in two and we will have the advantage!”

The group of four Generals sat in uneasy silence. Two of them hadn’t spoken; they couldn’t think of anything. Hardy already saw the look of defeat in their eyes. He didn’t blame them.

“Field Marshal?” Sanders was speaking to him. The tall man and his female counterpart looked down the table at him, waiting for a decision.

Hardy looked down at the map for a long moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You know what I really need?” He asked the room, who gave no answer. “A cup of coffee.”

The room held its silence for a few moments more as the others were unsure of what to reply to this statement. Hardy eventually sighed and looked up. “What have we got there?” He asked.

Sanders cut in. “450,000 troops spread along a three-mile front at that location, Sir. Also…” he looked at his computer pad. “Also, we have thirty long range artillery guns and twenty five Bulldog Heavy Tanks.”

Hardy thought for a moment longer. Absently, he wondered how many decisions he had made since this started had got his own men killed in failed attacks.

The game was up, and he knew it. The Republicans had lost, partially due to inferior numbers and partially due to bad organisation. Hardy wondered if he was part of the bad organisation.

“Alright,” he said, looking at his watch. “In precisely two hours, we will hit them along the Kish line.” He looked at the four Generals, one whom looked victorious, and three whom looked defeated. “I want artillery to open up with nuclear shells.” The Field Marshal continued. “I want them to airburst so we can capitalise on the effect. Two many of our shells are bouncing off their reflective defences.” He looked at the map. “Then I want a simultaneous Bulldog/Infantry charge, backed up with VX chemical shells from the artillery.”

The four Generals saluted, and left the room to go organise the attack. Hardy slumped into the chair’s cushions again, and pretended for a moment that he was someone else.

-----------------

OOC: Tagged - do the attack tommorow, okay? Gonna enjoy this. :D

OOC:
AL-Khali is behind 47ist lines...
Psuedopolis is the main Republican stronghold, but its alright...slight modification :P
And for those who dont know, Christophskiffer is acting as the Republican rebels.

IC:
"Gentlemen, the Republican resistance has stopped us cold. If this trench warfare goes on for much longer the public will be dissolusioned, and Mr 47 will be...dissapointed. You know what that means."
The generals around the table all had visions of the famed 'Information Retrieval Technicians', several gulped.
"What we need is a good solid 'break in' strategy. Any suggestions?"
"How about we throw millions of soldiers into a single all-fronts massive attack?" One of the younger men suggested.
"I like it, but its impracticle, after all, how are we supposed to get that many men ready? No, we need a more...local strategy."
"Ummm, we could launch a massive attack on the Kish front...they look a bit weaker there, and the line is longer, they might not expect a mass attack. And the guys at GLACORP North could support them."
"Yes...yes, I like it. Have GLACORP bring six Korogoths out of storage, and see if they can dig up any Pyro assault suites, flamethrowers are just what we need." The first general smiled, "Okay, so, we can hit them with 400,000 troops along about two miles of front, with heavy support fire. Drop some chlorine gas on their heads, which will get rid of anybody not suited up, as well as hiding the attack. Then we hit the rear lines with one of those 5kt micronukes, and maybe gas Kish as well. Never liked that city anyway. You have two hours gentlemen, then we attack!"

OOC:
Just trying to maintain status quo for the time :)

wow. i liked reading that.

Map:
http://s6.invisionfree.com/International_Mall/index.php?act=Attach&type=post&id=1295141

O_o

OOC:
AL-Khali is behind 47ist lines...
Psuedopolis is the main Republican stronghold, but its alright...slight modification :P


Sorry - I thought you said the Republicans were in the north. :S

This is a DGNT State Sponsered BUMP.
Please post now, or this message will explode and kill everybody in the RP :P

...

OOC: DGNT, I would be interested in this RP. If you fill me in on the details of what's happened so far, the causes, and where you want this to go, I'd be happy to jump in.
I made a post in the sign-up thread but you never posted back. If you accept me, could you tell me what weaponry I'm using, how much I've got and whether I can use aircraft or tanks.

OOC: Sorry, I've got A Level resits that I have to revise for. But, here's the start of the attack. :D

IC:

The front was silent.

James Langley had never heard it this quiet before. It was unnerving. As if…as if both sides were waiting for something.

The two lines stared each other down over No Man’s Land, just a few miles across. The blistering heat stifled the Republican trenches, and those that didn’t fall from heat exhaustion fell from the intensity of the ultra-violet rays that bore down on the location because of the rip in the ozone above them; a testament to the use of theatre-based nuclear weapons.

Langley, a Captain in charge of a platoon, had right to be nervous. He hefted his rifle and looked at his orders again. Involuntarily, he grit his teeth. They were going over the top.

‘Advance and take city from enemy forces,’ it read. Then, it gave the time and date of the attack and an official signage at the bottom.

Langley almost laughed at the uniform of it. The Republicans were going down the toilet, and yet those idiots back at HQ were still concerned about things looking proper. He scrunched up the paper and looked at his watch.

Ten Minutes.

“All right, lads,” he said, looking down the line. His 25 underlings stood with one foot on their ladders, all seeming relieved, if not eager, that they were actually doing something. This part of the front hadn’t moved in weeks.

Langley nodded. “We’re going in after the nukes. Everyone get their masks on; the fireworks go off in ten minutes.”

Immediately, the soldiers began adorning their protective visors and masks. Langley did the same. He prayed to God they worked.

A mile behind them, Artillery Colonel Graham O’Donnell looked at his watch, and nodded. Tapping his helmet intercom, he addressed the ten guns under his command.

“Cannons will fire in nine, repeat, nine,” he announced. “Load nuclear shells and standby.”

The massive 150-kiloton shells were winched into position behind open breeches. With one motion, the computerised system slammed them into place and the crews locked the breeches in anticipation.

O’Donnell adorned his own protective gear and looked out towards the shape of the city in the distance. ‘There or bust,’ he thought. These nukes were the last on this section of the line.

The minutes ticked by. O’Donnell counted them. Presently, his watch ticked ten minutes over.

“Fire!”

OOC: The Tiburonese contingent will consist entirely of Mobile Suits and airplanes. We've finally reached sea area off the northern coast of the Republic, and are going to invade section of land between the trenches and the Lancre Mountains. The force attacking the coast will consist of RGM-79 and RX-77-2 Mobile Suits, and will be led by the RX-79 Gundam. We're also beginning tactical air strikes on G'oaway, Fort G'oaway, Port Strategic, and Fort Slightly Right of the Middle of Nowhere.

IC: The URSN Firaga floated about the waters in the Lacitus Ocean, coming ever closer to the wasteland that was once Dontgonearthere. They were now a mere 25 miles off the coast. The attack was going as planned... all of the Mobile Suits, considered at among the best in the world, were battle ready. However, Admiral Richard Howe could only think of one pressing thing. That it wasn't the Space Force that was to land the suits, but the Navy. His ships were going to be close to the action. He cursed under his breath, and then gave the signal to the launch commanders.

"All units, head out!"

Quickly and silently, wave after wave of Mobile Suits launched from the Firaga, as well as the rest of the Mobile Suit carriers. The DGNT War had begun.

OOC:
Free Eagles: Sure.
The main cause is a rebellion instigated by the Republicans, who touched off a bunch of Elf-massacres in DGNT. There was a big war, resulting in the present situation.

Also, I would prefer if the action were kept in the North/West, the rest of the country is still pretty messed up. G'oaway is a collection of smoking craters around Dontgoneart'he castle, and bombing Dontgoneart'he castle is sort of like throwing rocks at a brick wall. Your going to need some BIG bombs to do any damage.

IC:
In the DGNT trenches, roughly the same time as the Christophskiffer attack:
The captain paraded down the trenches aisle, haraunging his underlings into position. Having procured a number of lifter-bots from HiveStation in GLACORP the process was going much faster.
The six guns in this battery had all finished loading, and the captain was watching the clock on the wall.
"Five..."
The artillary officers scrambled to get away from the guns, the recoil was going to be quite large.
"Four..."
There was a series of clicks as safties were removed from the bombs.
"Three..."
The guns made their final alignments.
"Two..."
The small electric ignitor motors built up the charge to light the launch system.
"One..."
The charges were released, starting a chemical reaction inside a gellike substance inside each nuclear shell, this began to rapidly convert into gas, realising large amounts of energy and shoving the shells into the air.
The shells reached the top of their arc, and began to descend.
At one mile up the shells initial layer of armour broke in half and fell away, releasing six 50 kiloton atomic weapons.
The mininukes spread small wings, taking them on a much flatter trajectory.
When they reached the ten-mile mark they would all detonate, covering quite a large area of trenchline.
Timed to land just after the preassure wave had spent most of its force a further twenty shells filled with choking chlorine gas were presently on their way.

---

The Republican bombs inflicted heavy casualties along most of the lines, a few missed or were hit by the frantic point-defence fire from all directions. Nontheless, a six mile wide area of trenches was cleared, though in most places the ultra-heavy concrete mix survived, even if the surrounding terrain didnt, leaving a few trench sections crossing large glass-lined craters.

"Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Well, arent you fellows glad we kept the main attack force back? Who was it who wanted them in the frontline trench an hour beforehand? Hmmm? It doesnt matter. Inform the troops that we have suffered another nuclear strike on the frontline trenches, issue radblockers and have the men take the antirad pills, just in case."
There was a general clearing (haha) as the commanders filtered out of the room.

---
On the front troops mounted the railwalks which enabled quick movement back and forth between trenches while making enemy movement back along them nearly impossible.
With the Point Defence weapons now fully alert and ready there was little chance of more than a few shells detonating, but gas and chemicals were always a risk, thus all the powered armour mounted large filters on their airintake valves, desgned to block almost anything.
Arraying themselves in the frontline trench they readied their weapons...

OOC: I’ll join the 47ist forces. I’ll use mostly DGNT tech, but I might throw in some of my own (I’ll explain it when I use it).

IC:
The Free Eaglian troops were fresh into the combat zone. Battle hardened though they were, they had been unprepared for the true reality of the trenches. However, they had responded in true FE style, ignoring the terror and focusing on reducing the enemy to their component atoms.

Due to the transit required to get to DGNT, passing through several semi-hostile areas, most of their weapons had been left behind and they had rearmed themselves on arrival from various DGNT armouries. The FEGF (Ground Forces) were unused to the level of weaponry being used in the combat, biochem weapons were not in Free Eaglian armouries, although nukes were common. One weapon the FEGF had managed to bring, although no-one quite knew how, was the Nova-M missile launcher, an infantry-launched guided missile with a 1-kiloton micronuclear warhead or a similar sized antimatter warhead. There was one of these launchers in each squad, giving the FEGF truly portable mass destruction abilities.

Their pilots, bereft of their Kestrel fighters, were using the capable Avenger fighter-bombers, with support from the seemingly infinite supply of Drone fighters, to pound the Republican lines with conventional, biochem, nuclear and napalm weapons.

Indeed as the infantry watched, a swarm of Drone fighters flew overhead accompanied by a small group of Avengers. The virtually continuous airstrikes were to break up the forces reportedly gathering for a major offensive, with a counter-strike ready to go at any time. As they waited, the infantry continually familiarised themselves with the new weapons.